A Grey haired old Lady
by broomstick flyer
Summary: The grey haired old lady was teased by the children of the village, encouraged by the adults, I was one of them children, that is until the day she almost stumbled and fell, I reached out to help her, never in my wildest dreams could I have known, H/Hr
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing.

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Meeting the old Lady

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Chapter one.

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The grey haired old lady we called '_Witchy poo'_ was walking slowly up the lane toward us, leaning heavily on her stick she seemed to be moving very slow, even slower than usual.

I could tell there was something wrong with her even though as I was just fourteen, I did not know what. I watched as she made her way toward us. Looking at my friends I knew they had noticed nothing different.

"Hey there _Witchy poo_," called my pal Greg. This time though I did not join in what had become a sort of ritual. We had teased the old lady for as long as I could remember; my parents had done the same thing and as far as I knew so had my grandparents.

She never once complained or shouted back at us. Instead she would look at us with those piercing bright brown eyes, the only part of her that did not look ancient. And continue on her way to her run down old house.

From what I knew from the rumours and gossip I had overheard, people in the village had been afraid of her for many years. None of them had ever tried to get to know her. Instead they took great pleasure in harassing her, we kids were almost encouraged to carry on the tradition by the grown ups.

I looked again as she struggled very slowly seeming to get no closer. She was dressed as she had been every time I saw her a faded blue dress that was frayed around the bottom. One of the pockets hung down torn loose at some time long ago. Around her shoulder she wore a very old worn out shawl that had holes in it here and there. On her feet an old pair of shoes that looked as though they had passed their best some time in the last century. It was all finished off with a very ancient looking cloak of some sort. You could tell it had once been black but the colour had faded to grey long ago.

I noticed Jimmy picking something up from under a tree nearby. Before I could ask what he was doing he threw an acorn at her, luckily it missed and ended up going over her shoulder. I grabbed at his arm as he made to throw yet another one.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked him fiercely.

"Well just thought I would wake her up a little," Jimmy laughed as he tried to free his arm.

"You do that again, I'll shove your head where the sun never shines," I hissed.

We had teased her relentlessly for years, but we had never thrown things at her. I was furious.

"Have we really sunk so low, we throw things at old ladies," I asked my friends as they all stared at me.

My outburst was enough for them to decide it was time to go home. One by one they said 'see you', and drifted off toward the village. By the time the six of them had gone, the old woman was just a few feet from me.

It was a lot closer than she had ever been before. We had always run away laughing as she watched us, this time though I did not run. I was still scared, after all every one in the village said she was a witch. She looked unwell as I watched her struggle.

She was passing me when she stumbled on the uneven surface; I rushed toward her and caught her arm just before she fell.

"Thank you young man" she said with difficulty, her breathing was laboured as though she had just finished a marathon.

"Can I help you home?" I found my self saying as I put my arm around her waist.

I was stunned at how light she felt, my sister was about the same size yet must have been twice the weight I now found myself supporting.

Slowly and carefully I helped her to her front door. I was about to leave her there when she asked if I would be kind enough to help her inside. She gave the door a gentle push and it swung slowly open.

"You really should keep the door locked when you go out," I said politely.

"Oh it was locked dear, it was locked," she said and she sounded so sure.

I knew it had not been locked she had not used a key or even the door handle, she had just pushed it. I helped her up the steps and into a long well lit hallway. I looked up to see the source of the light and it seemed the entire ceiling was made of glass. Looking around I saw a totally different house than the one portrayed from the out side, the inside seemed to be huge. The hall was sparkling clean not a speck of dust to be seen. The old lady must have seen my expression as she turned to thank me for helping her home.

"If you can take a few surprises with out getting too scared, would you like to take a look around?" she asked.

Surprised and intrigued I nodded. I had expected to see peeling ancient wall paper, not a gleaming well kept home. As we entered what I assumed to be the living room, she surprised me by saying "Muggle present."

"Pardon, did you say something?" I asked baffled by what she had said.

"No that's alright dear come on in."

She led the way into a luxurious living room. It was beautifully decorated with highly polished furniture set around a huge comfortable looking leather couch and matching chairs. Near the fire was an old well worn armchair that was similar in colour to the others but was obviously not a match. She invited me to sit asking if I would like a drink, I nodded as I surveyed the room. There wasn't a house in the village could match this one for grandeur not even Jimmy's and he lived in the old manor house.

The old lady hobbled out of the room to fetch the promised drink as I looked about me. looking at the large coffee table I noticed an old newspaper, it had begun to yellow slightly but it looked like it had been looked after even though it had been well read. I read the headline. My curiosity aroused I picked it up and began to read it properly. It read,

_Mr Harry James Potter of Godricks Hollow was today awarded the highest award ever received by a member of the Queens special protection unit. _

_Along with Mr R. B. Weasley and Miss H. J. Granger, they were presented the medals in a ceremony that also saw them receive equally prestigious medals from countries around the world. As the unit Mr Potter belongs to is a national secret we are unable to specifically say what the medals were for, suffice it to say they saved the world from a very dark and unhappy future. Mr Potter declined to be interviewed as he left the Palace_…………….

She came back unsteadily carrying a small tray with tea and biscuits. She placed it on the table in front of me and instructed me to help my self and if I did not mind would I pour one for her. I was happy to obey her instructions asking as I did so if she knew the man on the front page I was looking at.

"That's Harry my husband, he died some years ago now I don't remember how many just off hand," she said, I noticed she had a small tear running down her cheek.

I looked at her, then around the room. I was feeling so guilty, the wife of a hero and we had all treated her so bad. The shame was gnawing at me as I finished my tea, I tried to say sorry but it seemed so inadequate. Having finished my tea I stood to leave.

"Would you like to call again soon?" she asked a smile on her wrinkled face.

Fascinated by the house I promised to call back the next day to check she was ok, she seemed pleased with my answer and led me to the door.

Walking down the hall way I tried to call my friend Greg on my communicator.

"Afraid that won't work in here, none of the new gadgets do," she chuckled and it sounded like a private little joke she had.

I walked home slowly trying to figure out why the villagers treated such a nice lady the way they did. I gave up thinking about it after promising myself I would never be so cruel again.

I was still feeling guilty as I went to bed that night and vowed that I would never again pick on anyone or make fun of them just because they are a little different than I or my family are.

A/Note, thanks to all who leave a review, this story will not be very long having only 11 chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

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Chapter Two. Big Surprises

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I had over the past few weeks, paid quite a few visits to the old lady, 'Mrs Potter', I enjoyed her company, and it also served to ease my conscience, which had been playing hell with me since I first met her. During these visits, I had discovered her name was Mrs Hermione Potter, wife of a brave decorated hero, though I was yet to find out what it was he had done that had earned him the highest honours from almost every country there is.

Visiting once again I knocked on the door as usual, it opened very slowly, I knew there was something not right as soon as I saw the ashen face that looked at me from sunken eyes, I was amazed at the decline in the old ladies health, on my last visit less than a week ago she had seemed to be gaining some strength, now she was very pale and looked ill.

"Is there anything I can do for you Mrs Potter?" I asked, I thought she may ask me to fetch her a doctor, instead she beckoned for me to follow her, leading me into the kitchen, she asked with a tired rasping voice, if I could search around for what she said looked like a piece of carved tree twig.

"It's about 10 or 11 inches long, highly polished at one end, something like a very small walking stick," she said showing the size with her hands.

About twenty minutes it took me to find it; it was well and truly wedged behind one of the cupboards, try as I might I could not shift it, frustrated I swore "bloody hell,"

"That was one of my best friends' favourite sayings, that one," she said smiling a little.

"That piece of wood you want is here but it is well and truly stuck behind this cupboard, I can't get it to move," I told her.

"Well if you have to you can break up the cupboard to get it for me," she smiled while nodding for me to go ahead.

I looked around at the gleaming kitchen; every thing was spotlessly clean and in its place, "I will make a heck of a mess smashing it," I explained to her, hoping to make sure she wanted me to carry on.

"That doesn't matter, a mess can be cleaned up I really need that little piece of wood, I lost it four days ago, and no matter what I did I could not retrieve it," she sounded a little desperate.

Desperate enough for me to forget about making a mess and get to work pulling her cupboard apart, ten minutes later I had the piece of wood in my hand and was passing it to her, the smile and relief on her old face made it worth all the sweat and the few cuts and scratches I had obtained.

"I don't have the time or strength to make you a drink and wait for your visit to end, so today you are going to see what few Muggle's have seen since Merlin was around," she told me.

Confused, I looked at her wondering what on earth she was talking about, what was a Muggle, and Merlin wasn't he a wizard in the time of King Arthur, still I had come to know that I could trust her, she was one of the most honest people I had ever met in all my long life of fourteen years.

"I must ask you not to tell anyone at all, not a soul must know what you see here today, there would be dire consequences if the Ministry found out," she almost whispered looking around as though she might see someone spying on us.

Remembering the newspaper article that said Mr Potter was part of some secret organisation to keep the former queen safe I gave my promise and assured her that I would never tell anyone if I saw anything that was a secret, I had no idea what was about to happen.

"Right," she said "you pop the kettle on and I will get my medicine then I will repair the cupboard."

I found myself spilling water all across the floor as I watched her, she simply pointed the little piece of wood, the one that had led to the mess I was standing in, at the top shelf on a welsh dresser, two plates moved aside and a small glass bottle floated too her hand, the stopper popped out and the old lady took a long drink of the liquid within. By the time I had righted the kettle, she was looking a lot stronger, a little colour returned to her face.

I looked on totally awed by what I was seeing, as I watched she pointed the stick at the broken pieces of her cupboard, seconds later and the pieces were putting themselves back together, in the blink of an eye the cupboard was returned to its former glory, standing unmarked against the wall of the kitchen. Another wave of her twig and the mess I had made spilling the water disappeared.

"How on earth? are you magic? You are aren't you, you are magic," I gasped as my brain finally began to work.

"Yes dear, I actually am a witch, though we in the wizard world are not the way we are portrayed in your story books, in fact we actually have a ministry of magic, my best friend Ron Weasley is the minister."

I sat down at the table trying to take in what I was being told, "So your husband, he was a wizard?" I asked.

"Oh yes he was indeed, in fact he was the greatest there ever was, he was recognised the world over, and brave, he was so brave, he fought evil where ever he found it." pride for the man she so obviously still loved shone in her eyes as she told me.

"Would you like to read about him, I have saved all the wizard news papers, they tell most of his story," she pointed her wand at a drawer.

It opened gently and a pile of old yellowing news papers floated across to the table, I had never actually seen a news paper outside a museum before entering her house and said so, "These must be worth a small fortune," I commented as the papers settled in a neat pile.

I could tell Mrs Potter was extremely proud to have been his wife from the look in her eye as she made and offered me a drink of tea. I had several cups more as I read the papers well into the evening, by the time I was finished I had learnt quite a lot about a world I had never even known about, never even guessing it existed. I also now knew about the public life of Mr Harry Potter, saviour of both the wizard world and the Muggle world, my world, I was amazed at the stories of his deeds, the bravery of a person who had grown up being treated with cruelty, yet still being able to over come such an awful and truly bad start in life.

My brain was in a turmoil as I rose to leave, something about the old lady being a witch, must have leaked out to the villagers many years before, probably about the time her husband had died from his wounds after saving the world. She had been at his side fighting the powerful evil that had faced the world, now many years later all she had done had been forgotten by my world, all that remained was the teasing she got from the villagers, I left there that night determined to put a stop to it, she should not be picked on any more, she was a better and much braver person than any of the villagers.

"I won't be coming home straight from school," I told my mother as I left our house the following Wednesday morning.

"Will you be late in; should I save your meal?" My mother enquired a little look of concern on her face.

"No thanks mum, I'll get something at the old Ladies, I promised my self I would check she is ok."

"You're such a good boy, looking out for the old aged," mother said.

I wondered if she would have said the same thing if she had known who and what Mrs Potter was. The time seemed to be dragging, all day at school I watched the clock waiting for four o clock, when the final bell of the day rang, I rushed from the class and was out of the school gates before any of my friends had even put on their coats.

Mrs Potter looked so much better than the last time when she invited me in, I felt sort of warm inside, knowing that in a little way I had helped her. "I was thinking about you and Mr Potter at school, I could not help wondering how long ago it was you lost him?" saying it I suddenly felt a little stupid and nosey. I had read all those papers and never once looked at a date on them.

"Harry died 127 years ago; we had only been married for a year. I never really lost him completely though, we have a daughter and seven grandchildren, they all live in Australia and America. I get to see them all at Christmas and at the Potter day celebrations, that and I still talk to him every day," she told me a smile adding even more creases to her face.

"There is a Potter day, wow, he must have been a really nice man," I replied feeling sorry for her. She talks to him every day, I thought, well I suppose if you lose some one at such a young age it is bound to affect your mind. My thoughts were interrupted as she stood and gestured for me to follow her.

We entered a room I had never been in before, it was obvious even to me that this was a rather large library, it was also obvious that it was her favourite room, the old armchair next to the fire was really well worn, a little like the one I had seen earlier, but this one still bore the impression of where she had so obviously sat down to read so many times.

"I would like you to meet my husband," she announced as she pointed to a life-size portrait of Mr Harry James Potter.

He was only young when the picture had been done, I guessed he was about twenty, maybe twenty two years old, I could see that he had been a very handsome, and very determined young man, and from the look on his face a very serious man.

"Harry this is the boy I told you about, the one who has been helping me," she said looking up at the portrait.

I looked at her full of sympathy, then looked back at the picture and I felt a really deep wave of affection for the old lady sweep through me, she must have had a very hard and lonely life if she was reduced to talking to a portrait.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing.

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Chapter Three, Shocks and Surprises

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I looked up again at the portrait, it was a life size picture of a very handsome Mr Potter, for some reason it seemed to be staring at Mrs Potter, I knew it was my imagination, after all paintings can't stare. My sympathy for her grew a little more, she had been married to a very brave and now I knew, a very handsome man, but it was so long ago, shouldn't she have found someone else, shouldn't she have been happy, instead of talking to a painting, my heart reached out for this old lady.

Mrs Potter was staring at the painting a look of anger on her face. "Harry James Potter don't you dare, you broke more rules in a year than I have done in my entire lifetime," she growled at the picture.

Still the picture seemed to be staring at her, as she spoke again. "He already knows I am a witch, and he saved my life when I lost my wand, he found it for me, granted he did destroy a cupboard but he also saw me repair it, and he saw me get my potion from top of the Welsh dresser so stop this nonsense right now and say thank you to the boy."

I was becoming a little hedgy, I did indeed know she was a witch, but I was not fully prepared for a witch who talked to paintings expecting them to answer.

"Right if you are going to stay silent I might as well put a cover over you," she was saying, when I heard a mans voice reply "Ok, Mione no need to go to extremes, hello young man, and thank you for helping my dear wife."

At first I froze at the sound of a strange man's voice behind me, my mind seemed to have locked up and was totally bereft of thought, after a few seconds I spun around to see the picture looking at me; a huge smile had appeared on his face, "I- I- I-It moved!" I spluttered I'm quite sure my eyebrows moved to the top of my scalp as my eyes widened with shock.

"I am not now, nor have I ever been, an 'it'," the man in the picture said as his smile vanished. His bright green eyes looked to Mrs Potter, "your friend called me an 'it', Hermione Jane Potter, an 'it', I find that most offensive," he said with what struck me as a comical pout.

"Harry dear, what did you expect, he's a Muggle, he probably thought I was crazy when you kept silent," Mrs Potter sighed.

I gasped and as my legs shook and then gave way I flopped back on to one of the comfy chairs that were placed around the room in no sort of order, only there was no chair behind me and I ended up sitting with a rather hard thump on my... on the floor. I stared at the painting as the man in it himself took a seat in a rather large and comfortable looking arm chair, my knees were still feeling a little weak as I moved across the floor to one of the chairs, when I stood using the chair as a support the painting spoke again making me drop backward into the chair rather like an old man.

"I see you found a comedian to cheer your day dear," he said as he looked down at me.

"You can actually speak and move," I finally managed to say without sounding to rude, "I mean I never expected- I mean I thought... well I thought Mrs Potter was-, well you know..." I decided to shut up I was digging myself deep into a hole.

"Would you like a cup of tea dear, and maybe a biscuit or two?" she asked me as I stared at her husband Harry Potter, the reluctant hero of more than a century ago.

Thinking she might leave me alone with a talking picture I declined the offer, I was not ready yet, it was still sinking into my brain, I had spoken to a painting that moved around smiled and pouted and spoke back.

I looked at her, I was about to say something, as she waved her wand and a tray holding a pot of tea and a plate of ginger nut biscuits appeared in front of me. "Oh what the heck," I said out loud and reached for a cup and some biscuits, sitting back with them in my still slightly shaky hands I stared once more at the picture, that's when the next shock came, a female voice came from behind me making me jump and spill some hot tea on my knee.

"Hermione Potter, one of these days you are going to get into real trouble," it said.

I turned to look, to see where the voice had come from, only to be greeted by the portrait of a very good looking red haired woman smiling at me.

"Don't worry dear, Hermione knows just how you feel, she was a Muggle till she was eleven," she said, "hard to take it all in at first, but you soon become used to it," then she looked at Mrs Potter, "It's a good job mother is asleep Hermione or you would be getting a right telling off from her," she grinned.

"Ginny Weasley, listen at who's talking, one of the witches who accompanied my husband, me and your brother in their rule breaking in our fifth year," Mrs Potter was laughing.

"The boy looks hungry to me, needs a good meal or two in him," another voice said from my left, giving me yet another shock.

I turned to see another portrait, this one was of an older motherly looking woman, with a warm smile, and a warm welcoming look in her eyes.

"Molly Weasley you say every one needs feeding, I used to be surprised you never said that about Dudley," Mr Potter laughed, joined by the other woman along with Mrs Potter.

I think my poor old brain must have been on the over load setting by now because suddenly I was feeling left out for some reason, I asked "Dudley, who's Dudley?"

Mr Potter answered me with a question "You don't know much about us do you?"

"Only what I read in the papers Mrs Potter showed to me," I answered.

"Well remind me to tell you our story someday, I have a feeling you may just be surprised," he giggled as he watched my eyes.

Mrs Potter was pointing her wand at the several wall lights, as she pointed it at each one in turn they began to glow brighter, I had not realised just how long I had been there till then, I looked over at window to see it was getting quite dark out. Placing my cup and plate on the tray that still hovered between us, "I have to get home, my mother will be getting worried," I mumbled. I did not want them thinking I was a mummies boy and had to rush home for a certain hour, which of course I did or that I was still a little nervous, which of course I was, I mean it's not every day you get to talk to a hero, especially a dead one.

"Oh right, well I will see you out dear," Mrs Potter nodded.

Feeling a little silly with my self I said goodnight to the pictures, I was still finding it a bit hard to grasp. Reaching the door, I opened it and was about to leave when Mrs Potter asked me to wait a moment, she returned to the library and came back with a real book. "You might like to read this," she said as she handed me a small leather bound book.

Looking at the cover I read the title, 'The life and times of the real boy who lived, by Mr R B Weasley'.

"Thanks," was all I mumbled.

My journey home went by unnoticed as I thought over what I had seen, something inside me wanted to see more, something wanted me to try some magic, to see if I could do it. I picked up a small piece of tree branch as I walked, trimmed it down by pulling off the little stubby broken parts, then waved it at a cat while thinking jump, of course nothing happened except the cat gave me an odd look, but I so wanted to do some magic I tried again, I threw the stick away after my fourth attempt failed.

Reaching home I walked into the kitchen, my mum asked where I had been and though I wanted to tell her all about the portraits, I knew she would think me crazy so I told her I had been walking and lost track of time. I began to read the book Mrs Potter gave me as I sat eating my meal; it was not long before I was engrossed deeply in its pages.

I went to bed early so that I could read without being disturbed, as I read many questions began to form in my head, would Mrs Potter be able to teach me any magic, could a Muggle do magic, was I a Muggle or maybe I was a great undiscovered wizard like Mr Potter. My fourteen year old imagination took flight, thinking up the many ways I could learn magic, that night my dreams were full of my exploits as a hero wizard saving the lives of my friends and family.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

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Chapter four,

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Missing.

The next morning when I woke, I felt rough, as though I had not slept much at all. I walked into the kitchen where my mother was busy telling the food production unit what we wanted for breakfast. "Just cereal for me, mum," I told her as I sat down, I sighed "boy am I tired this morning."

"I am not in the least bit surprised, the way you were tossing and turning all night, do you know you actually woke your father and me twice, you were making so much noise, were you having nightmares?" my mother said, as she placed a bowl of cereal on the table in front of me.

I tried to remember my dreams, only managing to grasp a few of the more vivid parts. I remembered flying, casting spells at the enemy, I remembered Harry Potter fighting someone to rid the world of evil, but try as I might I could not remember any details.

"I think I was dreaming of flying," I told my mum, the only thing I could think of that did not sound stupid.

A holograph screen appeared just in front of me as I finished my breakfast. My communicator buzzed like crazy. Pressing the receive button, the hologram of my friend Greg began to talk to me.

"Are you coming into town with us? We are all going to see the new computer games. They say you can almost feel the pain in 'The battle goes on'. The holo-effect is supposed to be the best yet, with perfect colour and timing. Mind you we would need a new updated system to run it," Greg went on and on extolling the abilities of the new holo-games.

"I'm not feeling too brilliant today, I'm really tired, I think I may just go back to bed," I told him. "You will have to tell me all about it when you get back." I pressed the button once more and the holograph ended, picking up my communicator I went back up to my bed room, lifted the book I had dropped the night before, and finding the last part I remembered reading I lay on my bed.

I was still there when mum called me down for lunch. I did not really want to put the book down, it was fascinating. I admit it felt a little funny having an old fashioned book that had to be held by hand, instead of a holobook that turned the page automatically, but the story was so interesting. I nearly missed lunch and almost missed my evening meal, I would have missed that had my father not come to my room to fetch me. Once I had finished the book, I decided that when I took it back I would ask if I could borrow it again some time. I wanted to reread some parts, especially the parts about Harry Potter's defeat of the evil dark lord.

Two days later I knocked on the door of the Potter house, the door opened it's self. There was no sign of Mrs Potter, I knew instantly something was wrong, the door was usually locked by magic, it should not be open.

I rushed in and shouted her name "Mrs Potter it's me, are you here?" I got no answer from her and I started to get flustered, she must have had an accident I thought to my self as I rushed from room to room. I was just leaving the library when I noticed that Mr Potter was missing from his picture, just the large armchair he sat in remained.

I stopped mid stride, how could he have vanished, even a magic picture can't vanish. Then I remembered a piece I had read in the book, the old head master had been able to travel between pictures of himself. I knew then that Mrs Potter was not in the house.

Something had happened, I did not know what, but I knew it could not be good. Sitting in the chair I had sat in when I had the first conversation with Mr Potter, my mind began to race through all the awful things in the book.

Had some death eaters taken her, had she been kidnapped? Slowly I regained my self control telling my self that there were no longer any death eaters, but where then is Mrs Potter?

"WHO the heck…, Oh it's you, what's-your-name, Mione's friend,"

The unexpected shout made me jump, truth be told I was scared half to death; I looked around so fast I hurt my neck. Mr Potter was back in his picture looking down at me, I told him about making me jump and he kindly pointed out that this was not my house.

"What is your name by the way?" he asked as he watched my every move.

"My name Sir is Andrew but my friends call me Andy," I answered.

"Where's Mrs Potter, is she ok?" I wanted to know.

I suddenly realised I had come to love the grey haired old lady as a sort of grandmother figure; she meant a lot more to me than I had known till now. Mr Potter looked down at me, I could see he was debating on whether he should tell me.

"I have to know, Mrs Potter means a lot to me, I have grown to have quite a lot of affection for her over these last few week's," I said, hoping he would give me some good news, but knowing he would not.

"Hermione is in St Mungo's hospital, I had to go fetch a healer and they took her there this morning," Mr Potter told me.

"St Mungo's, can you tell me where it is, what time is visiting allowed?" Somehow I knew as I asked I would not like the answer.

"Mrs Potter is very ill, she is very old now you know, she was a hundred and forty seven this year, as for St Mungo's, it is a wizard hospital. You could not find it if you stood on its door step," he told me.

"I don't want to hear that, she means as much to me as a grandmother would, I have to see her, I have some apologising to do before it is to late," I was beginning to cry.

"How old are you Andy?" Mr Potter asked.

"I was fourteen four months ago, why?" I replied

"I was just remembering what it was like to be young. I felt the same way about Dumbledore all those years ago, you wait here I will see what I can do," he told me just before he walked to the side of the frame and vanished from view.

I sat and remembered the day we had first met and began to remember all the times we had met in the past few what now seemed very short weeks, a thought suddenly struck me as odd, I remembered some of the times I had walked her home from the shop in the village, each time she had invited me in for a cup of tea, I had never noticed that as she entered the house her clothes had always changed in the same way the house did, outside was drab and almost ruin like, but inside it looked like a grand manor house and she always looked as though she belonged there, all the ragged clothes were changed, sometimes even her hair was different, odd that I had never noticed until she was not in the house with us.

Five minutes after Mr Potter left I heard a strange voice call my name, "Andrew are you there?"

I answered without thinking, "I'm in the library, waiting for Mr Potter."

An old man with a long white beard that almost touched the floor, and hair that reached down to his waist, came through the door way. I had never seen him before but I knew who he was, there was a great family likeness to my friend Mrs Potter's other portraits.

"Minister Weasley?" I asked as he put a hand gently on my shoulder.

"The one and only," he smiled at me, "I am told by Harry that you are the young Muggle friend who has helped Hermione."

I nodded my head, flinching as my neck reminded me I had twisted it a little while before. Mr Weasley was a very tall man, I was supposed to be tall but he stood over me making me feel small, he had to be well over six foot six.

"Mrs Potter, how is she, will she be alright?" I was desperate to know.

"I will take you to see her if you are not afraid?" Mr Weasley said kindly.

I decided I liked him already, he had a look of calm about him, and I had read the book in which he had written about Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and him self, Ronald Weasley, I knew he was a loyal and fiercely loving friend and brother.

I think he knew what I would say when he said I could go to see my friend, so I gave him my answer without even thinking about it.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

Chapter five, last goodbye?

I had to rub the tears from my eyes, I was fourteen years old, I should stronger than this and not be crying, but for some reason I did not try to hide it as the tears ran down my cheeks and dripped from my chin, I so wanted to see my friend I would have done almost anything.

"I would go with you even if I was afraid," I said a little defiantly.

Not knowing what I was supposed to be afraid of might have helped boost my courage a little, had I known he was talking about disapparating I might have had a little hesitation. I remembered reading about the deeds that these people had done when my age and it gave me a bit more courage, if they could face danger to save the world then I could face it to see my friend. If Mr Weasley could take me to my friend I would go no matter what.

Mr Weasley beckoned me over to him, "We have to be outside, for what we must do," he told me.

I followed him through the house to the front door, "It was unlocked when I arrived," I blurted out to him.

"Well we will see to it that we lock it this time," he said, a gentleness in his voice; he waved his wand at the door.

"Right Andrew if you will just grab my arm and hang on tight, and no matter what happens don't let go," he instructed.

I did as he told me and took hold of his arm, he need never have told me not to let go, I was suddenly and violently squeezed through some small tight place, I could not see where, it was all just a blur and my grip on Mr Weasley tightened involuntarily.

A few seconds later and I vaguely recognised where we had ended the strange journey, we were in a slightly run down part of London, though I am not sure where. Mr Weasley led me to a large shop window, then he spoke to a tailor's dummy that looked like it had seen its best days go by a long time ago. At first I began to think him mad then I remembered that just a short while ago I had been talking to a picture, so I stood and waited.

"Ok just take my arm again and we will go in," his smile was reassuring, but still I prepared myself for another awful journey. I need not have, we just walked forward through the glass window as though it was not there.

Once inside I was amazed at the things I saw, there were several people queuing at a nurses station, all of them seemed to have some drastic malformation to some part of their body, at least that's how it seemed to me. Mr Weasley led me past the queue and on down a long spotlessly clean corridor. I saw several strange sights that I won't even try to describe because even though I saw them I could not believe my own eyes.

We turned left half way along the corridor, and then walked up a flight of stairs into another corridor. Half way along that corridor Mr Weasley stopped.

"This is Hermione's room, would you like me to come in with you?" he said in his quiet voice.

I blinked back a tear and nodded, together we walked into a spotless room, just one bed was placed mid way along the wall. There looking deathly pale lay Mrs Potter.

I rushed forward eager to talk to her, but then I slowed 'be careful she may be asleep' I told myself. I reduced my speed to a crawl as I neared her bed, the tears still running down my face.

"Hello dear, what a nice surprise, how did you get in, oh I see, hello Ron dear, how are you?" Mrs Potter's voice was weak but just as pleasant as it had been before. I found myself crying more, the tears flowed freely down my cheeks, I blushed when she noticed.

"You should never be ashamed to cry dear, my Harry cried several times and I have seen Ron there, cry more than once," Mrs Potter gave me a weak smile as she spoke.

"But I am so ashamed of the way we treated you, the names we called you, if I had known…" I stopped mid apology.

She had a tear in her eye as she shushed at me, "You were just a child then. Now you are becoming a young man, we can all be cruel as children. Now you shush with the apologies and tell me what you thought of the book."

"Well first," I looked at Mr Weasley, "first I thought it was one of the best written books I ever read, I was fascinated by the stories of the things you all did. I think you are all so brave. Then I felt so sad for you, losing the one you loved so much," I could say no more as the reality of where we were and why suddenly struck me.

"I'm going to be losing you so soon after I got to know you aren't I? I should tell you I have come to love you, just as I loved my Grandmother." again I started to shed tears and my hands shook.

I felt Mr Weasley move close, "We never lose our friends fully, not as long as we remember them in our hearts," he told me.

"It's ok for you magic people you have pictures that talk to you, you are able to remember them that way, I will not have that and I am afraid my memory will fade just as it did when my friend Sue died," I was a little angry but did not know with who or why, it all just seemed so unfair.

"You have not forgotten your friend, you have just placed the memory away in the back of your mind," Mrs Potter said gasping for breath a little.

"I wanted you to teach me magic, on my way home the other night I could not resist trying to cast a spell. You should have seen the look I got from a cat as I pointed a stick at it," I suddenly found my attempts at magic silly and I chuckled.

"You have to be born with it. Magic isn't something you can learn. Magic folk then have to go to a school to learn how to control and develop it," Mr Weasley told me.

"How do you know if someone is magic?" I asked.

"Well there is a special book and every time someone magic is born, their name is magically entered. Then when they reach eleven they get a letter from the school they are to attend," Mr Weasley looked down at me; the smile on his face was warm yet full of sorrow.

I looked again at my dear friend and the tears once more ran down my cheeks. I knew it was almost over, I knew it was time to say goodbye. I lifted her frail hand and I gently kissed it.

"I have to go now, I am so pleased to have known a great lady like you, I wont forget you, I promise," I told her.

She smiled then held out her other hand to her friend Ron. "I will be with my Harry soon, I think he's getting impatient with the waiting, I can hear him calling me; I want you to give my wand to Andy when I have gone. I want him to have something to remember me by," she said.

She lay back and smiled her eyes slowly closed, the smile remained on her face.

I heard a sob from beside me and looked at Mr Weasley, he was crying,

I knew then my friend was gone.

We left the room together. Mr Weasley told me he was now the last of what had once been a huge family, "I still have my children and grandchildren and my nieces and nephews but all my brothers and now my sisters are all gone,"

He reached out his hand and offered me Mrs Potter's wand I took it from him, then when I held it by the handle, I asked him the time and something odd happened at home at that precise moment.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

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Chapter six. Young and in love

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As I took Mrs Potter's wand and turned it to hold the handle, Mr Weasley looked at his watch which was chiming twelve o clock, midday.

"Midday exactly, Andrew, do you think you could give me a few minutes before I take you home? I need to inform the Weasley family they will want to be at the funeral," Mr Weasley said very quietly.

I was not feeling as though I wanted to go anywhere yet, so I nodded.

As I watched him walk down the corridor I found my self wishing to be like him. He seemed so strong, he had just lost his life long best friend who he thought of as his sister and though the tears were slowly trickling down his cheeks he still had strength to think of the rest of the Potter and Weasley families.

I waited for a few minutes before he came back, when he did. I had made a decision, as he approached me I asked if I might be allowed to attend the funeral, to which he agreed. He even promised to send me a message to tell me the date and time and then to pick me up from home on the day, finishing off with a promise that I would be able to spend the entire day with him.

As we walked toward the way out, I noticed that he seemed a little worried about something and he kept checking his watch every few seconds. When we reached the main entrance hall I had to ask because I felt a little uncomfortable and was worried I was keeping him from his work.

"Mr Weasley sir is there something wrong? only I notice you keep looking at your watch? I don't want to be a problem," I ended with a whisper.

Once more he checked his watch before he answered "Well the Potter family should be arriving, I just hoped they would arrive on time, portkeys, it's not always simple to get them quickly, I had thought I would get to meet one of them to explain what happened before we left."

"I don't have to go home right now, a long as I am home for my dinner I don't mind if we stay here a while longer, in fact I would like to meet some more of the Potter family," I said feeling rather bold.

A small friendly smile appeared on his face; "Well if it's ok with you? I really would like to be here when they begin to arrive," he said looking down at me a little relieved. We took seats in the main entrance waiting area, and then spent the next ten minutes talking about the people who entered the reception area. I was amazed by some of the things I saw and heard. Then one poor fellow entered carrying a huge iron pot, Mr Weasley told me it was a cooking cauldron.

The man struggled up to the nurse just a few feet from us, "Please help me, I can't put this dumb thing down. I had to rest four times when I aparated here, I don't know what happened, one of the children got hold of a wand." Even as he spoke to the nurse his legs began to give way under the weight he was holding.

She took out her wand and said some thing that sounded like 'wings hard levysom', the look of relief on his face was instant.

"Please take a seat and someone will be along to help shortly", she told him.

I think that is when I realised that magic could be dangerous. "No wonder you have to go to school to learn how to use magic," I said out loud to no one in particular.

"Even trained wizard's can have accidents," Mr Weasley told me.

An hour and a half later two men walked in through the door followed by several women and children. I knew immediately that they were the Potter family. The first man looked exactly like an older version of Mr Potter, though he was the only one with black hair, all the others had bushy brown hair except for one who had long dark red hair.

Mr Weasley rose and rushed toward them. They each in turn hugged him, and as he gave the the news that they were to late to say goodbye the tears flowed freely from them all, he turned and beckoned for me to join them. I was introduced as 'Andy the Muggle friend of Hermione'.

I shook hands with them one by one. Then the last hand reached out to me, taking it, I looked up into the most amazing emerald green eyes. I think I fell in love in that instant, the most beautiful dark red haired girl smiled at me.

I lost my voice as soon as she said hello with the most wonderful angelic voice, all I could manage was a sort of grunt. I spent the next two hours with the Potter's and Weasley's as they reunited, most of those two hours I spent simply admiring the red headed beauty.

I found out that the girl was named Ginny after her great grandmothers' friend. I also found out we were the same age and that her family would be remaining in England, and even better they would be living at Godrics Hollow in the Potter family home. I could not keep from looking at her no matter how hard I tried. I found myself wishing with all I had that I was a wizard and could go to magic school with the angel that had stolen my senses.

All too soon Mr Weasley said he would have to take me home. The rest of the family left us to make their last visit to Mrs Potter. We had reached the door when that beautiful voice stopped us.

"Uncle Ron. Dad says can you wait for us then we can all port key to Godrics Hollow together," Ginny smiled at me again, making my knees shake a little, and then she rushed off to join her family.

We waited a few minutes longer for them to return then we all stood in a group at the entrance. Mr Weasley was handed an old news paper which he held out in front of him, every one put out their hand and took hold.

"You too Andy," he said as the dark haired Mr Potter started to count down.

When he reached zero the world seemed to go crazy. After a huge tug at my stomach every thing began to spin. Seconds later I was flung to the ground, joined by one or two of the younger Potter's. Getting to my feet, helped by the young Ginny, I saw that we were back outside the Potter house.

I was feeling in an odd mood as I walked the short way to my home after saying goodbye to the Potter family. I had just lost someone I had come to love over the last few weeks and I was devastated by it. Yet I had just met a girl who had stirred emotions in me that I had never felt before, by the time I was home my mind was in turmoil. It was four in the afternoon when I walked into the kitchen. My mum was making a cup of tea for my dad. She filled his cup, the one I had bought him a year ago.

"Is dad ok mum?" I asked, because dad very rarely arrived home before six.

"Your father has been home since one o clock, I had to phone him when something unusual happened at midday," my mum answered me.

"Midday did you say, what happened at midday, mum?" I remembered Mr Weasley checking his watch at midday the same time Mrs Potter died.

"You can take his tea and go to see if you can help your dad, I heard him swearing a minute ago," mum said and went back to doing her own cup of tea. I couldn't help noticing the strange look she had in her eyes, it was almost like fear.

When I walked into the living room first thing I saw was my dad kneeling on the floor looking in his tool box for something. I walked a little further into the room before I saw it. A life size portrait of a grey haired old lady looked down from the wall. She winked ever so slightly at me as I asked my dad what he was doing.

"I'm trying to remove this picture that's what. your mum said it just appeared at midday, just appeared I ask you who ever heard such, and she swears she has not been out of the house, or opened the door to anyone," dad was fuming.

"Can I have it for my bedroom? When you get it down," I asked.

"What do you mean when, don't you mean if? I have been here since one-o-clock trying to shift the…" he shut up before he swore in my presence.

"Maybe I can help?" I said as I walked up to the picture and lifted it from the wall.

Dad threw his tools down on the floor and huffed as I placed the picture next to him. "How the heck-, never mind take the darn thing upstairs, I don't want to see it again, ever."

I struggled alone up the stairs with the large Portrait; it must have been over six foot high. But I managed to get it into my room with out any accidents or doing any damage. I propped the picture up by my bed.

"Thank goodness you got home Andy; your dad was driving me crazy. Did you know he knows how to swear in several languages," Mrs Potter said as she looked around my room.

"Is there a wall you would prefer?" I found myself asking.

"Which way does your window face dear?" she asked.

"To the west, I think but I am not sure," I looked at the picture and thought about what my dad would say if he could see me now.

"Well I do like to watch the sun go down. Harry and I used to sit and watch it all the time."

I placed the picture against the wall, "I will nip down see if dad has got a nail," I said as I moved toward the door.

"There is no need for that Andy, you just let me have a much needed rest after listening to your father all afternoon and it will all be sorted in the morning, for now I am very tired," she yawned as she spoke.

"Ok, I am just off down for something to eat, I will talk to you later," I said to Mrs Potter but she had already fallen in to a deep sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing.

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The Grey haired old Lady

A/Note One of the reviewers asked if one of the Potters in the last chapter was Albus Severus… Now I had thought it obvious that the H/Hr ship would in no way contain a Potter with such a totally stupid name… but as it seems I was wrong let me just make my opinion clear. I can see no way that anyone would name their child after people who subjected them to years of abuse. I care not what JKR wrote in the crapilogue of book seven, the entire idea that Harry would even contemplate using the names of the two people most responsible for the pain he suffered as a child is stupid in the extreme…

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Chapter. Seven. My First Girlfriend.

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It had been four days and Mrs Potter's picture had not woken up yet, I was beginning to wonder if it had all been in my imagination, maybe it had all been a dream I told myself as I dressed to go down for breakfast. I had just pulled on my jeans when I heard the faint sound of the door bell, then I heard my mother talking to some one down in the kitchen, feeling nosey I decided to find out who the early caller might be so I trotted down the stair and on into the kitchen. My knees went weak as soon as I entered the room, there standing talking to my mum was the most beautiful girl I knew. Ginny turned and smiled at me, making my heart flutter, should a fourteen year old feel like this I asked myself, I seemed to be getting good at asking myself silly questions I noted.

"I called to see if you felt like taking a walk with me, show me the village life," Ginny said as I stared at her open mouthed like a fish out of water.

I stood there telling myself to answer but not a single word seemed to be available to my gaping mouth, giving up on trying to speak I nodded vigorously, I noticed the sideways look my mother gave me, then realised she was looking at me in a way I have never seen before. I actually think she knew how I was feeling, as my emotions and hormones all went into overdrive.

Ginny walked over to me and kissed me on my cheek as she said a quiet "Hi," instantly I could feel the heat in my skin as the blood rushed to fill my cheeks, I think I may have blushed right down to the ends of my toes. My head lost control of my feet, as Ginny took my hand and my brain shut down all but my eyes, I stared at her, I don't know how long for.

Eventually my senses started to return, starting with my hand, it was tingling from the sensation of her holding it, I suddenly realised I was staring again and then felt her give a gentle pull on my hand, my legs slowly responded to my silent screams for them to follow her. By the time we reached the garden gate I had regained most of my faculties, I stopped before opening it, "I have something to show you, before we go for a walk, if you don't mind going up to my bedroom with me," I blurted out.

I knew as I finished speaking I had not phrased what I wanted to say properly, I began to trip over my words, I ended up mumbling something about her great grandmother as I pointed toward my room. I think she could tell from the bright crimson colour of my face that I had meant nothing sordid, because she turned back toward the house, that's when I realised she was still holding my hand, suddenly it felt warm and tender in mine, I wanted to give it a squeeze, just to prove to my self I was actually holding hands with a beautiful girl.

"Am I your first girl friend?" Ginny asked before we reached the kitchen door.

I stupidly said "No… that's not really… well I mean… I never… yes… are you my girlfriend?" I can't tell you just how stupid I felt with just the odd disconnected words escaping my treacherous mouth that simply refused to speak properly.

"I meant your first female friend, but I will be your girlfriend if you want me to be, I had thought by the way you looked at me…" Ginny answered trailing off and turning nearly as red as I was.

I had made her feel awkward and I now felt awful, "Sorry Ginny, I just never, I mean, I'm not too bright around girls, I mean, oh heck I think you are lovely," once again I felt myself blush to the tips of my hair.

This time I saw Ginny blush even more, "What was it you wanted to show me?" she asked.

"Just follow me," I told her as we walked back into the house, passing my astonished mother as I led the way up to my room. Entering my bedroom I saw that Mrs Potter was awake, I nodded toward the picture as Ginny moved to stand along side me.

"Hello Andy, I thought I heard you coming up the stairs, oh and hello Ginny, I see you have met my young friend," Mrs Potter smiled at us.

"Hello granny, yes I met Andy at the hospital, he's now my boyfriend, I know you don't mind, him being a Muggle and all," Ginny answered with a cheeky grin.

"I don't think you could do any better my girl, he reminds me of your great grandfather, whether your mother will approve I don't know, as for your father I know you can wrap him around your little finger, so I don't think he will mind, now Andy did you get my wand?" Mrs Potter said as she sat down in the large armchair again.

"Hello Mrs Potter, yes Mr Weasley gave it to me at the hospital, though I must admit I had forgotten about it, the surprise of finding you here, and then dad going crazy trying to pull you off the wall, and mum has been acting a little odd lately," I looked at her wondering why she asked.

"So you haven't tried to do any magic, or anything with it yet?" she asked and she looked just a little disappointed.

I must have looked bewildered because Ginny spoke, as I just looked at the picture with my mind blank, "Do you think he's a wizard granny?"

"Well he did say he could not resist trying to do some magic, after he saw what I did," Mrs Potter replied, "and he has my wand and portrait."

As the two females discussed me, I walked over to my bedside cabinet and took out Mrs Potter's wand, I had no idea how it was supposed to be used even though I had seen Mrs Potter do some amazing things, she had never once used any words, so I stood there and waved it around, I gave it a few swishes and swirls but all that happened was I tripped my self and fell face first on to the bed. They both looked at me and started to giggle, as I once again blushed. "Seems I'm not too good at this," I said as I stood up.

The two ladies, decided that they would spend some time showing me some simple spells, just to see if I had a little magic in me, they were both very patient as I tried and failed at all they told me to try. I was soon losing my temper with myself, but at the same time I was becoming more and more determined to get it right but I kept completely losing my concentration. An hour later Mrs Potter declared she was feeling tired and asked if we would mind if she took a nap, Ginny and I decided it was time to take our walk around the village.

"Wonder why your Granny thinks I can do magic?" I asked Ginny as we walked toward the village church.

"Well, first of all, I never heard of a Muggle getting a witches magic portrait before, they usually go to a close wizard family member, second you tried to do magic and were serious about it, you did not find it frightening or unbelievable, third you still have the wand, it should have gone to the closest relative if given to, or stolen by a Muggle"

Ginny gave me a lot to think about on that walk, we spent the entire day together, when the time came to take Ginny home, I found the thought of parting company and not being together with her a little saddening. I was no longer mumbling or stuttering or blushing, I was totally comfortable in her company, it was as if we had always been a couple, like we were meant to be a matching pair, though I was no longer nervous in her company I did not know if I should try to kiss her goodnight, not that I really knew how, the only women I had ever kissed were my aunts, and then it was usually on the cheek and under heavy protest with a rather loud yuck thrown in for good measure.

I said goodnight then turned to leave, "Goodnight Andy," Ginny said quietly as I began to walk away, then on an impulse I turned and gave her a quick kiss full on the lips. Then I ran down the path, leaving her standing there staring after me, watching as I leapt in the air and tried to click my heals together which of course I failed at spectacularly. I walked home feeling about as good as I had ever felt, in fact I don't think I've ever felt so happy before or since, it was as though I was suddenly a complete person, some part of me that had been missing before was now where it should be. I spent quite some time trying to fall asleep that night and my dreams were all filled with a red headed Potter.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

The Grey haired old Lady

Chapter 8 The Funeral Speech

It was very early the following morning when I was awoken by something tapping on my bedroom window, opening the curtain I was surprised to see a huge owl sitting there; it stared at me with its huge eyes before tapping again on the glass.

I opened the window thinking that it must be an escaped pet; I had intended to try and tempt it into the room where I could maybe catch it and then see that it was returned to its owner. To my surprise the owl fluttered in to the room unbidden and landed gracefully on my bedside locker, as I looked I noticed it had a small letter attached to its leg, and when I moved toward it, it lifted its leg out to me. I took the letter and began to read, the funeral of the grey haired old lady that had become my closest friend Mrs Hermione Potter, was to be held at eleven am that morning, it would held at Godrics Church, a gathering was to be held afterwards at a place called the Burrow.

I quickly found a pen that actually worked, I don't often use a pen, much preferring to just recite things for my computer to sort out, I wrote an acknowledgment on the back of the letter, then tied it back onto the owl's leg, the owl was up and away through the still open window, as soon as I had finished tying the knot in the ribbon holding the letter.

I looked up guiltily at the snoozing Mrs Potter, remembering the teasing we had all indulged in, the portrait was still in shadow and Mrs Potter looked very comfortable, grabbing my sweater and wrapping it around my shoulders, I went down for breakfast but found I could eat nothing, instead I sat there just pushing the food around my plate, it was beginning to get too me that my friend was actually dead and we would never again be laughing and joking as she did some magic for me. Having the picture had some how tempered the feeling of loss, now though the realisation came to me, the picture was just that, a picture, it was not really my dear friend, it was some how so very similar to a holograph.

Mum was watching me a worried look on her face, "Are you alright dear, you look a little ill?" she said as I poked again at my food,

"I have to go to a funeral mum, that old lady I told you about has died and today it's her funeral," I muttered as a tear slipped down my nose.

Mum held me as my emotions got the better of me, I don't know how long for, but eventually mum told me I should go up and put on my best suit and tie, she promised to check me out before I left for the Church.

For me as a Muggle it was a very strange experience, I had never had to go to a funeral before, but to be at one where every one was dressed in strange black clothes that seemed more suited for a different century, was definitely strange. I was met at the Church yard gate by Ginny; she was wearing a long black cloak that trailed along behind her as she walked. She took hold of my hand and together we stood at the grave side, as the service began she leant onto my shoulder and began to cry, not knowing what to do I placed my arm across her shoulders and held her tight. I held her hand with my free hand giving it a gentle squeeze every so often; I bowed my head as the tears flowed down my face and gathered under my chin. I needed to wipe them away but I could not let go of her, it just seemed the wrong thing to do, so I stood there letting the tears fall once again totally unobstructed.

It was a long service as wizards and witches from all around the world read out statements or told of their joy at having been a friend of Hermione Jane Potter. As the speeches ended I was feeling awful, I was standing at the grave of a wonderful woman, one that I had mocked and called names, looking at Ginny I suddenly felt very guilty, I had to tell her about it, I took my arm from her shoulder and took a deep breath, "I have something to say," I said quietly.

I began telling Ginny all about the way her great grandmother had been treated by the villagers, taking a deep breath I began to tell her how I had joined in, how from a very early age I had done just as all the others did, how we had teased and name called, never once did any of the villagers show any kindness to the grey haired old lady who lived in their midst.

I had begun to tell her how her great grandmother had never once retaliated or shouted at us, how she had bravely carried on with her business, that was when I realised that everyone was listening, some one had cast a spell that magnified everything that was said about Mrs Potter. I could not stop now just because they were all watching me, feeling terrified I struggled on, telling of how we had become friends and how eventually I had come to truly love the great lady I once ridiculed.

I ended by telling Ginny about the way her great grand mother had forgiven me in the blink of an eye, how she had treated me with great kindness, when I was finished the tears were once more falling down my cheeks. I had expected everyone there to shun me after all I said but they did not shun me instead they tried to comfort me.

Mr Weasley even thanked me for looking after his best friend in her last few weeks of life, Ginny put her arms around me and though she said nothing I knew she too had forgiven me. I was the last to speak there in the Church yard, when I had finished every one started to leave till there were just Mr Weasley and three of us left.

Mr Weasley held out his arm to me "Ready for another trip?" he asked.

Ginny took the arm of her father, who stood over by the gate and with a nod they were gone, Mr Weasley looked down at me, then with a wink we were once more rushing through a very tight place, seconds later we stopped outside a very strange house. It had several stories all of which looked as though they had been just stacked on top of each other with no actual plan to it all, each floor had different types of windows some had crooked twisted chimneys poking out at odd angles.

Ginny led the way inside to a huge kitchen, where it seemed an amazing amount of people all milled around. I wondered at first what it was they were doing, then I saw the portrait, Mrs Potter was happily chatting to all who passed. I remained holding Ginny's hand and together we spent the first hour or so in the kitchen, I was almost mesmerised by the things I saw, I watched as tea pots floated around refilling cups when needed, trays of sandwiches poked me till I took one, people were doing wondrous things, just with a quick wave of a wand.

Once the crowd had thinned down till just Mrs Potter's family were left, Ginny gave me a tour of the house, telling me some of it's long history as the Weasley household, I got the impression that she was also on a voyage of discovery when we entered a room and she let out a little gasp,

"This is the famous Weasley twin's room," she said and looked to be in awe.

I had to ask "Who were the Weasley twin's and why were they famous?"

Ginny told me about the twins Fred and George and how they had terrorised a wicked headmistress of Hogwarts School, she told of the legend that surrounded them at the school, how many pupils had tried hard to out do the things the twins had done.

We were still chatting when Ginny's mum called us down, "Come on you two, it's time for tea." I looked at my watch and wondered where the day had gone, it was four thirty already, getting back down stairs I saw the entire family sitting around a huge kitchen table, I don't remember it being there before when we were in the kitchen.

Mr Weasley was sitting at the head of the table, the rest of the family sat on either side, two seats remained empty, Ginny's mum motioned for us to sit.

As soon as we sat down large plates of food appeared, and with the comment tuck in from Mr Weasley, we all began to eat, although there seemed to be little enthusiasm with the food, I think that all there were still feeing the tremendous loss we had suffered. The conversation got around to my friendship with Mrs Potter, tales of her brave deeds were told to me by every one, Ginny smiled at me and I knew that this family had accepted me even though I was not a magical person.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

The Grey haired old Lady

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Chapter 9 Another witch.

I spent all of my free time with Ginny during that short period of time before she had to go off to a School called Hogwarts, I think we have found something that will last for the rest of our lives, well at least I hope it does. I went with the Potter's to see Ginny off, she was crying a little when we kissed goodbye. I almost cried myself but managed to hold back the strange choking feeling I got as she walked away from me.

I arrived home feeling really miserable, told my mum I was going to my room and made my way upstairs. I flopped on my bed before I noticed that the large picture of Mrs Potter was empty. I wondered where she might be, then decided she must have gone to visit someone. As I looked at the picture of an empty chair I remembered Mrs Potter's words about not trying to do any magic. I remembered the look of disappointment she had. There and then I made a decision and reached into the drawer of my bedside cabinet and took out the wand. I spent hours over the next one or two weeks, where ever I went, what ever I was doing, as soon as I was alone, I kept trying to perform a spell. Time after time I failed, yet I could not stop myself trying, each time I failed to concentrate.

It was a couple of weeks after Ginny had gone off to start Hogwarts, I had been missing her so bad I decided to try to distract myself with my old friends, finding them a little boring as all they talked about were computer games I left them and headed home, I had just arrived home from a visit to my friend Greg's house, when I found my mother sitting in the kitchen looking as though she had seen a ghost.

"Are you ok mum?" I asked wondering what was wrong.

"I should have known it would catch up with me one day," mum said.

She was making me wonder what she was talking about, I sat down opposite her. The thought entered my head that maybe she and dad had rowed and dad had left home, I dumped that thought almost as quick as it had arrived, mum and dad never argued, they had over the years worked out a system that worked well. Mum told dad, dad agreed, and they did it together, what ever it might be at the time, it was a simple system they both accepted.

"Mum what ever is wrong? You are making no sense," I said. Then wished I had kept my mouth closed as mum gave me a look. One of those where you know you just stepped over some invisible line and dropped your self up to the neck in the deep end.

Mum stared at me, she had a new scared look I had never seen before, a strange sort of miserable, guilty, frightened but regretful sort of look.

"Accio wand," she said, my wand came flying over from somewhere near the sink. I almost fell from my chair as open mouthed I watched it soar straight to her hand.

"Mum you are a witch," I said my voice full of admiration and surprise.

"Andy, I want you to promise me, you will never tell your father, I don't want him to know about my family."

I could not take in what I was hearing and as for what I had seen, I must have imagined it. I looked about the room, looking for some other way that the wand had reached my mother.

"I had an idea when that picture arrived. Does she talk to you, do you know who she is?" mum asked.

"That's Mrs Potter. The grey haired old lady I told you about. That was her wand. I was given the wand when she died. The picture was another gift, one I never expected, and yes she does talk to me," I told her.

"Andy, tell me she's not The Mrs Potter. Not Mrs Harry Potter." Mum looked even worse as tears began to form in her eyes.

"As a matter of fact she is, and Ginny is her great grand daughter," I answered again.

"Your girl friend is a witch then, not only a witch but a Potter," mum seemed to be about ready to crack up or something.

I was getting more and more confused. My mum was a witch yet she had not wanted us to know. Now she was near to tears because my girlfriend is a witch, I had to know what was going on. "Mum, what's going on, what are you so upset about, if you are a witch it should not bother you that my girlfriend is one as well." I wondered just at that point if I really wanted an answer.

"Oh Andy, I am so sorry. I hope she doesn't hold it against you," mum said as she started to cry her shoulders shaking.

Now I was getting worried, what was it that Ginny might hold against me, was it bad enough for her to dump me?

"Mum will you tell me what on earth you are talking about?" I almost yelled.

Mum sat sobbing her shoulders still shaking. I watched her and a thousand thoughts rushed through my head, none of this made any sense to me, asking mum questions was only confusing me more. I got up and walked around the table and put my arm around her shoulder, when she had finally calmed down I told her that what Ginny and I shared could not be taken away, no matter what the reason.

"I hope you are right son, I hope she will be as strong as her great grand mother was," mums shoulders shook as she thought of something. I still had no idea what it might be.

"Do you want a cup of tea making?" I asked gently.

Mum looked at me then gave the wand a quick flick and a pot of tea appeared, just as it had done when Mrs Potter served tea. I have to admit I was impressed, my mum could do magic, we both had a cup of the hot brew before mum spoke again.

"Would you go up to your room and ask Mrs Potter if I can talk to her please?" mum asked.

Finishing my tea I did as mum asked. Mrs Potter was almost as surprised as I was when I told her what had happened down stairs.

"Well you nip down and tell your mum she can talk to me when ever she wants too, nothing can be so bad that she has to hide her gift," Mrs Potter told me.

Arriving back down stairs I told mum what Mrs Potter had said. I wondered if I would be allowed to be there when the two women had a talk. I was now anxious to know why mum had said the things she had, I wanted to know why mum was worried about what Ginny thought.

Mum whisked the cups into the sink with the wand, then turned to me, "shall we go up then?"

I felt relieved I was being invited; I was going to find out what it was all about. I resisted the urge to rush my mum as we walked up to my bedroom. Mrs Potter was sitting in the huge armchair when we walked into the room; both my mother and I sat on the bed.

Mrs Potter was the one who broke the silence, "Andy has told me you are a witch and that you wanted to talk to me," she studied my mother as she spoke.

I just sat quietly trying to be inconspicuous and listened as they talked together.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

The Grey haired old Lady

Chapter 10

The penultimate chapter Mums story

Mum looked over at Mrs Potter, then took a deep breath, "Andy would be a wizard if my mother and I had not performed a dark spell that would bind the magical core and take away his abilities to find and use it, well not really his abilities, more his capability to access the mental pathway that connects to his magical core."

Mrs Potter looked a little confused, "You know it's not possible to remove the pathway from away from someone, so all we need to do is to work out how they did that and reverse it," she said, more as a question than a statement.

"The charm mother used also places thoughts deep in the subconscious, thoughts that make someone unable to believe in their ability to use their magical core, it distracts a person away from connecting with their magical core, I do know it binds the core allowing no access to it even with exceptionally hard concentration, I did not understand it all really, because it was very dark magic it was not something I ever dabbled in, anyway she said if it was placed early enough, then he would grow up as a Muggle, it was a charm passed down from my grandfather," mum said as tears started to form in her eyes.

"I have never heard of such a spell or charm," Mrs Potter answered, getting agreeing nods from the others.

"No you won't have, it was a family secret, my grandfather got it from Tom Riddle, he perfected it, they were going to use it to stop any Muggleborn's joining the wizard world, it is dark magic but I had my reasons for doing it," mum started to cry again.

"Is there a counter charm?" Mrs Potter asked, a sad look on her face.

"I don't know," mum sobbed "I just wanted my son to grow up happy, not to suffer like I had to."

"Would you like to tell us about it, why you suffered so bad you would rob your son of his gift," Mrs Potter sounded calm and sympathetic as she spoke.

Mum started to sob and it was a while before she answered, taking a handkerchief from her pocket she wiped her eyes, then with out looking at me she started to explain.

"I was in Gryffindor at Hogwarts, the first one in my family, through out the generations, ever since 1022 ad, just a few years after Hogwarts was built and became a school they had all been in Slytherin, then I came along and spoilt their reputation, all my family treated me like I was a diseased leper, all but my mother who secretly supported me a little and helped to get me through it all without going crazy.

I was hated by my family at home and even at school I was hated, I never had any friends, none of the Gryffindor's would associate with me, so I spent my school years hated and disowned by my fathers side of the family, including my own father who beat me every chance he got, mothers side also disowned me, I was hated at school by the Slytherin's and by the Gryffindor's, I did not want that for my son," mum finished with more tears.

"Why were you so disliked?" I asked wanting to know why my mum had had such a miserable time.

Mum looked at me, the memories she had were obviously upsetting her, but she knew she had to tell us the whole story, "I gave up magic and changed my name before I met and fell in love with your father, I had lived as a Muggle for five years when we met, for the first time in my life I was happy, really happy, I never told my family when I got married, only my mum, the rest don't know about you, I never wanted them to get their hands on you because they would have taken you away from me," she looked at me then at Mrs Potter before continuing.

She bowed her head when she said "My grandparents were Draco and Pansy Malfoy, I was a Malfoy, but only in name, being the granddaughter of one of the most hated of all wizards was not easy."

Mum finished talking, her head held in her hands, I was stunned as I tried to think of some thing to say, I was the great grandson of death eaters, the ones who had helped kill and torture so many people, Mr and Mrs Potter's vilest enemy after Voldemort. I was thinking of all that my mum must have endured, when Mrs Potter spoke to us.

"Well we need to find a counter charm for our 'Muggle born' wizard, don't you think?" she said emphasising Muggle born.

I think mum was a little surprised at Mrs Potter's reaction to the knowledge of who her grandparent's had been, she looked at the picture then asked "You don't hate me then?"

"No dear, I can understand some of what you went through being a muggle born." Mrs Potter smiled.

"We are going to need some help with this, we don't have to let them know who placed the charm or why, we just need to get it lifted, so Andy can be who he was meant to be," Mrs Potter said then walked to the edge of the picture saying "I won't be long."

Five long and silent minutes went by before Mrs Potter returned, "I have enlisted the help of Harry, Molly, and Ginny, I have also asked my friend Ron to be here," she said when she returned.

Mum looked a little worried when I explained that Mr Weasley, Mrs Potter's best friend was the Minister for magic, between us Mrs Potter and I convinced her that everything would be ok. That evening as dad sat down stairs watching the local TV holo-cast, my mum joined me and Mrs Potter in my bedroom, we did not have long to wait before company arrived.

When with his arrival announced by a quiet popping sound Mr Weasley joined us, I must have jumped a metre off the bed I was so surprised by him just appearing out of thin air, then the beautiful women I had seen in the pictures at Mrs Potter's house joined Mrs Potter in her picture along with Harry.

I introduced Mr Weasley to my mum, then he turned to the portrait and introduced the other new arrivals to her.

"This my dear is the famous bat bogey hexer of Hogwarts, my sister Ginny, and of course then we have the best cook ever to put food on a table my mother Molly, the ugly guy you have already heard of he's Harry Potter, you already know Hermione, the most beautiful witch ever born," he said with a chuckle then smiled at my mum before he took a seat next to me on the bed.

Mr Potter grinned and then stuck his tongue out at Mr Weasley who returned the favour by blowing a loud rasberry which made every one laugh, even my mum.

Mrs Potter must have told them the reason for their visit because Ginny asked my mother about the charm that was used, neither of the new arrivals seemed interested in who had used it or why. Mum could'nt tell them what the charm was as her mother had used the family grimoire which she was banned from using.

Mrs Potter while laughing, told Mr Weasley off for saying she was the most beautiful witch ever born, I was unable to stop myself when I blurted out. "Second most beautiful."

Mr Weasley looked at me with surprise, I stuttered that the most beautiful witch was my girlfriend.

"And who pray might that be?" he asked, as he unsuccessfully tried to suppress a smile.

"Ginny Potter... I agree that Mrs Potter does look very beautiful, but I think Ginny is the most…" I stopped talking as he laughed.

"So dear little Ginny is your girlfriend then, you know I remember…" he was saying before he was cut off by a blushing Mrs Potter.

"We have things to do Ron, we need to find a counter charm," she said seriously

"I was just going to tell him how I reacted when my little sister Ginny first got a boyfriend," Mr Weasley said apologetically "and I still think you grew into the most beautiful…" he fell silent when both Harry and Hermione sighed then rolled their eyes at him.

We spent the evening listening to Mr and Mrs Potter and the two other witches work out several charms and counter charms, we all knew it was time to call it a night when we heard dad call up asking about supper and what we both wanted to eat.

It took three weeks before Mrs Potter finally worked out how the charm worked then another week before she found a counter charm.

I was getting worn out by it all, I had to go to school all day, then in the evenings I would be in my room trying to do the spells they all showed me, while my mum and Mr Weasley kept trying different counter curses on me, or I stood holding a book for Mrs Potter and turning the pages when she told me to, when Mrs Potter told Mr Weasley a counter charm to try one evening we were all slightly shocked when he did finally they had found a counter charm that worked, I had had so much practice with various spells, that I simply waved the wand around with out thinking.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I groaned again for what seemed to be the thousandth time that week, the vase I was pointing at suddenly took to the air, Mr Weasley had to duck down quickly, as I not thinking, not truly expecting it to work, I spun around to face my mum, I came to my senses when the vase passed by my mum and hit the wall and shattered.

"Sorry mum," I mumbled feeling a little silly.

Mum grabbed me in a hug even as I spoke, she was genuinely happy that I had done some magic at long last.

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I want to offer my thanks to all those people who have reviewed the story.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer all characters, settings, etc, are the copyright of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing

The Grey haired old Lady

Chapter 11

Hogwarts

Just a week later with many untested spells in my head from the weeks of practice and I found myself taking a ride on the weirdest bus I ever saw. It had three decks and was painted in a lurid purple colour. The seats were Armchairs that rolled around as the bus swerved. We were hurtling through different parts of the country, jumping from town to countryside and then back in a flash. After just five minutes on the Knight bus I fervently wished I had never eaten breakfast as I felt absolutely sure I was about to lose mine.

The bus conductor a rather thin but pretty young woman finally called out my destination. "Hogsmeade! next stop." I rose to make toward the exit but fell back into my seat as the bus dodged down yet another country lane and appeared in a small village. The bus came to a screeching halt as though it was reluctant to actually stop in this village.

The bus stop was outside a really old and battered looking pub and I got off the purple torture machine on shaky legs and with a very delicate feeling stomach that wanted to part me from my breakfast, I was wondering what I was supposed to do next. Standing there at the bus stop I felt out of place, I was on my way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with no real idea of what to expect or how to get there once I got off the bus.

All I knew for sure was I would soon be with Ginny who hadn't a clue I was coming, mainly because I had no idea how to send a letter by owl, not that I had an owl. 'She is in for one heck of a shock' I told myself as I glanced around. Then of course my mind started to drift back to all the time we had spent together, I was soon in a daydream about all the kissing and cuddling we could do very soon. I suppose I had stood there for around five minutes when a quiet male voice bought me quickly out of my thoughts.

"Mr McAlwee?" the voice said. "Mr Andrew McAlwee?"

Turning around I saw a very young man, I supposed he was about seventeen. I had never been called Mister before and did not respond immediately. "Yes, that's me. Are you from Hogwarts?" I asked, then thought where else would he be from.

He introduced himself as Kieran Finnegan head boy, he had been sent to collect me by the headmaster. After what I thought was a rather long and tiring walk we reached the school gates. I don't know just what I was expecting but when I saw Hogwarts castle I was completely amazed. The place was enormous; it looked like some thing from a fairy tale, huge towers reached up high above the high walls. The gardens lay out in front of me. Huge finely cut lawns stretched all the way from the gates to the castle that stood several hundred yards away.

I was bursting with questions but the head boy had not said a word since introducing himself so I refrained from asking the torrent of questions that raced through my mind.

When we reached the main entrance I found myself thinking back to the stories I had read in Mr Weasley's book. Everything looked just as I had pictured it; it seemed to me that it had not changed from the days when the amazing Mr Potter and My friend Mrs Potter had been here.

I carried on following the head boy through the main hall and up a large stone stairway along a fairly long corridor and after climbing a spiralling staircase I arrived outside a large oak door.

After having knocked rather gently "The headmaster will call you in shortly," the Head boy said then left me waiting there feeling rather aprehensive.

I was feeling so nervous I could not decide if I needed to go to the little boys room (again), I never got the chance to make my mind up as the door opened and I was invited in by a very old man. He looked even older than Mr Weasley.

"Come in then Mr McAlwee, come in, take a seat. I am Professor Longbottom headmaster of this fine institution. Now there are just a few things we need to discuss before we get on with the sorting. I have spoken to Minister Weasley, he tells me you have just been released from a binding spell that prevented you from knowing about your abilities. I gathered from our discussion that you are a fast and willing learner. Tell me exactly how old are you?" the headmaster said as I sat feeling just a little more relaxed, his voice had a really friendly sound to it.

"I will be fifteen in four months Sir," I replied.

"So you are fourteen, nearly fifteen eh, well you have a lot to catch up on if you are to pass any of your exams next year, but more about them later. Tell me what do you know about the school?"

"Well sir, to be honest I only know a little, though Mrs Potter told me about a few things and I read Mr Weasley's book, and I have heard a few stories from my mother," I answered.

"There will be some extra lessons for you for the first six months, I have arranged for one of our Professors to teach you somewhat privately, in that six months you will not be attending classes with the other students. you have three years work to catch up on; you will not be studying history or divination unless you decide to do so in your free time. So if you are in agreement with this and willing to work hard we will get on with the sorting," the headmaster said as I listened carefully to every word.

The headmaster waved his wand at the door and it opened as a man reached the top of the stairs. "Ah, just in time Professor Lupin," the headmaster said as he caught a floppy old hat that drifted down from a shelf.

Passing the hat to the Professor who placed it on my head the headmaster leant back in his chair. Within a second or so I heard a voice call out "Gryffindor," and the hat was removed.

"Professor Lupin will take you to Gryffindor tower, as your house master he will be the one who will supply you with a time table." The headmaster told me as he quickly shook my hand "welcome to Hogwarts and good luck with your studies."

Professor Lupin led me through the castle toward the tower, as we walked my curiosity got the better of me and I asked him if it was possible he was the Remus Lupin from the book. His answer that he was the son of Remus reminded me about the girl I was so anxious to meet, I was so happy when he told me that she too had been sorted into Gryffindor.

I quite like professor Lupin; he seems to be exactly as I had pictured his father Remus, that and he is an excellent teacher.

I met Ginny in the common room that evening just before going down to eat at my first meal in the great hall. The look of joy and amazement on her face when she saw me made my toes curl, Ginny rushed up to me and kissed me while professor Lupin was still talking to me, she then blushed and apologised to us both, me I couldn't have cared if the roof fell in, Ginny had just kissed me and as usual I was in no state to think just then. I must say the meal we had when we reached the main hall that first night was a real surprise, Mr Weasley had mentioned it in his book saying how good the food at Hogwarts was, but it was beyond anything I had expected.

Ginny and I sat together holding hands under the table, My lessons started early the next day and went on all day every day of the week till around six p.m. for six long months, day after day I worked hard, looking forward to the day I would be in class with Ginny. I think I did rather well in charms and in transfiguration, as well as potions and defence, I wasn't any where near as good as some of the students but I managed to scrape a pass in my exams at the end of the term.

Ginny and I have been together almost every single day since, I asked her to marry me this morning and to my great joy she said yes. I had to work harder than I ever thought I could during those first six months here at Hogwarts but it was all worth every once of effort I put in to catch up. And now thanks to a lovely old witch I knew as the 'grey haired old lady', I am here today along with my fiancée Ginny and the rest of my class, graduating from Hogwarts as a fully qualified wizard. And my rather proud mum and dad are sitting out there in the great hall with the Potters and the rest of the guests watching as we receive our N.E.W.T results and certificates.

The end of the first adventure. please review and to those who already have I offer my thanks.


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